It's A Boy Thing
by RoleplayCracktastic
Summary: All the boys have problems. Big problems, little problems, and problems with polka dots. Only John Locke can be their 'Dr. Phil' figure.


**A.N. Hey, readers! If you didn't know (I don't expect you to, so no sweat) this story is an RP (role-play) between me (Twisted Ingenue) and my friend (Spontaniously Insane****) (and no…I know its spelled "Spontaneously"…it's just my friends special way of spelling it. She's special**** Each of**** us**** have our own profiles and our own stories. We also have another RP with a crossover of Supernatural and Pirates of the Caribbean on the account, CommodoreWinchester.**

**Now… a little about this story in particular. There are two OCs...but they are not mainly featured. They do have a role to play, but they're not the main focus. It's about the boys (hence the title of the story). But, if you want to get a little background on them, go to our profile. And, if you want to see what goes on in sweet, shy Phoebe's mind, read my story "Out of your League"…it's not that bad, really. Anyways…on with the show. Oh...and here is the "cast list" of which author is writing for whom****, in order of appearance:**

**Boone Carlyle: **_Twisted Ingenue_

**Charlie Pace: **_Spontaniously Insane_

**James (Sawyer) Ford: **_Spontaniously Insane_

**Phoebe Mitchell**** (OC)**_Twisted Ingenue_

**Meredith Jonathan**** (OC)**_Spontaniously Insane_

**Jack Shepherd: **_Twisted Ingenue_

**John Locke: **_Twisted Ingenue_

**Hurley (Hugo): **_Spontaniously Insane_

**Shannon Rutherford: **_Twisted Ingenue_

…

Boone wanted to crush the costly cell phone that he had in his hand to bits. It wouldn't work. It _couldn't_ work. Just like everything else in his life. _"It can't work, Boone..." _

Shannon's voice echoed in his already cluttered, chaotic mind. It can't work. It would never work. Just like his damn cell phone.

"Shit!" Boone cursed, tossing the phone into the sand and stomping it into the ground, wishing it would bury itself in the sand forever

Charlie woke to Boone and his swearing. It had been a long night of not sleeping for the poor ex-rock star, and an ever longer time since he's had fix. The fire he had slept by had all but gone out."What time is it?" He asked wearily, almost forgetting where he was. "Oh...right. No clocks."

"Yep," Boone replied with clenched teeth. "Wonderful, huh?" His voice was clearly coated with uncharacteristic venom and sarcasm...unless he was arguing with Shannon, of course.

"Not exactly what I'd call wonderful, really." Charlie said, sitting up with a heavy groan. Sleeping on the sand was bad for one's back. He looked around swiftly, almost suspiciously, before standing. "I'm going to go use the loo... over there." He pointed to a large tree just past the bush line.

"You go there!" Boone called out, trying to be friendly and polite. This was no mean feat when the only thing on his mind was Shannon. Shannon. Shannon. _Shannon. _

_"Shannon..." _Boone said breathily to himself.

Charlie nodded, running toward the bushes. He wasn't sure who the boy was addressing when he spoke last, but ignored it. He needed a fix, and he needed one _now_. Luckily for him, he kept his stash by that tree he pointed out earlier. After a moment, he was back, a little happier and sniffling just a slight bit. "My names Charlie, by the way." He said, addressing Boone as he walked over.

"Shannon..." Boone accidentally blurted out aloud. "I mean...Boone..." Boone's ivory cheeks became red with embarrassment. "I'm Boone Carlyle. Nice to meet you, Charlie."

"Who's Shannon, then?" Charlie asked, sitting down on a log. "You keep talking about her. Who is she?" He looked up just as it started pouring down heavy rain. The sky went black.

"Is this normal? You know, sky going black? End of the world type weather?"

"I don't know," Boone was very thankful for the downpour. It had helped change the subject.

"There's a little area under one of the tarps over there," Boone pointed out an area about sixty feet away. "Want to make a run for it?"

Charlie nodded, the precipitation painful on his bare skin. He darted under the make-shift tent, watching the sky roll with thunder

Boone sprinted along after him, letting Charlie get a head start. He was afraid he'd get too competitive if he made it a race. Boone was pretty athletic and didn't want to run the smaller guy over. "You know what?" Boone dashed into the tent. "This is what I'd call a five-star pavilion. It's better than the Ritz Carlton, I think."

**"**Never been in it, I wouldn't know." Charlie stated softly, watching the black sky. The forest resounded with the noise of that _thing_ they had heard the night before. Charlie then turned to Boone. "So, who _is_ Shannon?"

_"Damn it!"_ Boone thought to himself. "Shannon?" Boone leaned back a little, trying to hide behind a casual façade. "Oh...she's my sister...stepsister to be exact."

"Oh." Charlie sounded a bit morose when he said that. He was reminded of his brother Liam, and they're band. He fiddled with his silver ring instinctivly. "You two close?"

Boone furrowed his brow as he looked a Charlie playing with the ring on his finger. Boone was overly observant, but he decided just to answer Charlie's query.

"Erm...I _guess..."_ Boone remembered the night with Shannon in Sydney. A shiver of delight ran down his spine as he remembered her warm, beautiful body. "We argue a lot."

"Probably not as much as some." Charlie commented absentmindedly, shining his ring with his sleeve. He and Liam fought a lot about what would become of their band. He hoped that Boone and his sister didn't fight that much or that angrily.

"Nice ring," Boone remarked.

Charlie looked up, smiling. "Thanks. It's from my... our band, Drive Shaft. You ever heard of them?" Charlie asked, hope in his voice.

Boone's blue-green eyes widened. "Holy crap!" Boone let out a laugh. "_Charlie Pace_?!"

"Yeah!" Charlie stood, positively beaming. "In the flesh!"

"Don't hit your head," Boone warned. The roof of the tent was pretty low. "But...anyways...are you being serious...or is this just a joke?" Boone looked at Charlie incredulously, trying to tune out the sound of the rain pounding against the tarp.

"I am serious. Bass guitar for Drive Shaft, in person." Charlie had a slightly monotone voice, owing to the fact that he had had that conversation many times over.

"Man!" Boone exclaimed. "Can I have your autograph?"

Charlie was practically glowing. He had a fan! "Sure... if we can find a pen and a not completely sopping wet piece of paper..."

Boone looked out at the rain. "Erm...that might be a problem. But...anyways...what happened to you all?"

"We just kind of... fell out of fame. 'One hit wonder'... After 'You All Everybody' everything went downhill." Charlie spoke very softly, slightly depressed. He remembered how his brother's addiction killed any chance the band had left.

"Darn, that's rough," Boone stated. "But...maybe you could go on a solo record or something, I mean, you're probably the best in the band."

"Drive Shaft died a while ago. There's no coming back into fame. Trust me, I tried." Charlie said, running a hand through his wet hair."Oh, what a sob story. Now that he's done, maybe Cupcake has a depressing tale to tell." Sawyer, who had entered the tent some time ago, finally spoke. He did not hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Cupcake?" Boone didn't even have to look at him. He knew it was Sawyer by his irritating, southern drawl.

"What? You got a problem, buddy?" Sawyer asked, quirking an irritated eyebrow. Charlie looked from Boone to Sawyer, slightly confused. "Who is this guy?" He asked Boone in a hushed whisper.

"A bastard...that enough for ya?" Boone replied to Charlie, and then finally turned to Sawyer, adding a bored tone to his voice. "So...why "Cupcake"?"

"Because you're a sissy." Sawyer stated. "You and your sidekick Chewbacca over here were sobbing over something."

"Neither of us were _sobbing_," Boone huffed. "Now...if you don't mind, we were having a nice conversation until you came in. Unless you'd like to participate with anything worthwhile..." Boone began twiddling his thumbs. "Nah...Why don't you just leave?"

Sawyer gestured to the pouring rain with his left hand. "Too late now, Han Solo. There's no place to go in rain like this. It's why you two are under here."

"I'll take the rain then," Boone muttered.

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Rain nor shine, you still hate me. Peachy…" He muttered, pulling out a dry cigarette. He lit it up, let the smoke fill his lungs, and he blew out a smoke ring.

"So, you two met Carrottop yet?" Sawyer asked lightly, gesturing over to the tarp twenty feet behind him with his left hand, which was holding his smoke.

"Who?" Boone raised his eyebrows, trying not to cough from the smoke off of Sawyer's cigarette. "And, please...if you're going to smoke...I suggest you get a more expensive brand. Wait...maybe you can't afford anything better." Boone attempted to take a stab at Sawyer. He deserved it, after all.

"Mine got wet when we crashed. You need to tell the poor sap I lifted this from to get better, not me." Sawyer stated, purposefully blowing smoke in Boone direction. Charlie seemed unaffected by it. "And Carrottop's the rocker-lady with the fire-hair. Meredith something, I think. Feisty little thing."

"Interesting," Boone said, looking uninterested. "I don't know what I have to say about your taste in women, though."

"You say that to her, Metro, and she'll take your balls for trophies." Sawyer said, tossing the cigarette into the sand and stepping on it. Charlie took a step back from Sawyer, into the rain.

"I don't wanna meet her, then." The blonde commented.

"I agree with you," Boone murmured back to Charlie. Then again, it didn't really matter if this "Carrot-top" was the spitting image of Kate Winslet...Boone had eyes for only one girl...Shannon.

"So, what were you and Tattoo talkin' about, anyways?" Sawyer asked, sitting down in the sand. "Might as well entertain myself."

Boone let out a sigh, but decided to be civil. "Oh...well, Charlie here is...was...in Drive Shaft...he plays bass. We were just talking. I'm a fan of his music...mainly the background."

"Drive Shaft..." Sawyer repeated, slightly confused. "Never heard of them." He said finally, putting his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

"Are you sure?" Charlie said, half-hopeful. "We sung 'You All Everybody.' You know..." Charlie hesitated, still smiling. "You all everybody! You all... every...body..." He started to sing but stopped when he saw Sawyer's face. It was a perfect 'what the hell?' look.

"Umm..." Boone coughed uneasily. "When do you think the rescue planes are coming?"

"They aren't." Sawyer said, lighting up another cigarette. Charlie's hopeful face turned to one of anger.

"You can't say that! You don't know if they're coming or not!" He said, frowning. Sawyer stood, not looking at Charlie.

"You didn't hear, did ya, Sport? We're a thousand miles off course." He turned, face drawn in a stoic expression. "One thousand miles. They're looking for us in all the wrong places."

"Don't listen to him," Boone assured Charlie. "They'll be able to find us. Maybe we'll be here for awhile...but not forever."

"Of course not. You'll die before we ever get to forever." Sawyer sneered. "We're all gonna die here, no doubt about it. You, Hobbit, Carrottop, every last damn one of us will die on this island and you can't do anything about it."

"Well aren't you Little Miss Sunshine today?" Boone snorted.

"At least I'm not all ready for rescue." Sawyer snapped. "While you are out there waiting for help, I'm taking advantage of the situation."

"Oh?" Boone stood up, hitting his head on the roof of the tent. "Are you perhaps enjoying the scenery...or making skirts out of palm leaves?"

Sawyer pulled out a gun. "No, but I did find this." He cocked it, aiming it at Boone. Charlie looked slightly panicked.

"Hey, put that down!" Charlie said, earning a shove to the stomach. He fell down into the sand and rain.

Boone, though alarmed...and admittedly frightened, made another one of his hotheaded moves. "Nice gun you've got there? How much water can it hold? I wonder if it's any competition to my super soaker..."

Sawyer pressed the firearm into Boone's forehead. "Shut up, Metro." He snarled.

"Oh! So it's a headache remedy?!" Boone quipped. "I get it now!"

Sawyer pulled the trigger, but at that moment, Charlie tackled him and the bullet pierced the tarp. The water that had built up on the tarp began to pour through the hole, and collapsed the canopy on top of all three of them.

Boone was breathing heavily and unevenly as he lay on the sand, tarp over him. His heart was beating like a sledgehammer against his chest and he was unfortunately shaking like a leaf. Boone was officially traumatized...having never been almost shot before.

Sawyer jumped up, holding Charlie by the front of his shirt. "What the HELL?" He shouted. He was officially drawing a small crowd now that the rain had slackened some. He threw Charlie on the ground, and Charlie stood. Sawyer, walking away, suddenly turned around and sucker punched the poor rocker in the face.

Boone, though still shaking, sprinted up to Sawyer and jumped on top of him, trying to tackle him to the ground. He successfully landed a kind of wimpy punch to Sawyer's lower lip.

Sawyer threw him off and onto Charlie, the pair landing in a heap on the ground

Boone immediately rolled off of Charlie, heart still hammering wildly. He was scared, but also filled with adrenaline. So, he stood back up and held his ground.

"What?" Boone let out an almost feral snarl, since the thrill of the fight was exciting him. "You too afraid to fight?"

"Nah." Sawyer spat, grinning. "I'm just goin' easy on ya. Come and get me you pansy!"

Boone became incredibly angry at being addressed in this manner. As if he was the inferior! When Boone looked back at Charlie lying on the sand with a bleeding lip, he knew he now had more of a reason to smash Sawyer to a pulp. He actually had a motivation now. Not just adrenaline.

"I will, then!" So Boone, without hesitation revved up and charged straight for Sawyer.

Sawyer went at it against Boone full force. The two men ended up in a heap on the ground, tussling. Sawyer landed a hard punch to Boone's head. Charlie stood, wiping at the blood on his lip. "Hey!" He cried, jumping on Sawyer and trying to pull the stronger man off Boone.

"Oh my god!" Phoebe Mitchell, a slightly aloof, awkward girl whom Boone saved from drowning yesterday, pushed through the crowd and assisted Charlie in getting Boone away from the scrap.

"That...damn...bastard...I..." Boone trailed off as a little blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Meredith Jonathan, the red-head Sawyer mentioned earlier, ran over to the scuffle. She helped pull Sawyer off Boone and then shoved him into the sand on his ass. "Quit it, Sawyer!" She cried, turning to him. "You can't beat up everyone who pisses you off!"

Phoebe quickly rushed to Boone, pulling him up. Boone was rather dazed and he stumbled backwards onto her. She held him steady and looked at Sawyer with genuine horror in her eyes.

"Y-you could've… k-killed him!"

"I would've killed him!" Sawyer snarled, sitting up. Charlie stood by, watching, panting like a dog.

"Hey..." Boone's eyes were almost rolling to the back of his head as he turned around dizzily to Charlie. "Thanks, man...for savin'...my life earlier...with...that gun and...all..." Boone then fainted into Phoebe's arms.

Charlie trotted over to him, helping Phoebe support the deadweight. It had stopped raining by that point. "C'mon, let's get him to Jack." Charlie said softly. Meredith was in the process of chewing Sawyer out.

"You are a certified bastard, Sawyer!" She finished. Sawyer had stood, and was brushing the sand form his front.

"Save it, Carrottop." He muttered, pushing past her to join the pair taking Boone away.

"Back off!" Phoebe snapped, finally showing a little backbone.

"Slow down, Playgirl. I'm not gonna try and shoot him again." Sawyer raised his hands in defeat.

"Listen to the girl, Sawyer, and go away." Charlie snapped. Sawyer shrugged.

"Suit yourselves." He said, walking away behind them. He promptly turned around and proceeded to follow them at a safe distance.

"Thanks, Charlie," Phoebe smiled, still hurt by Sawyer's remark of "Playgirl"...even if he wasn't aware of her sensitive spot.

"How did it happen, anyways?" Phoebe asked, changing the subject.

"Boone said something that ticked Sawyer off." Charlie said. Meredith was walking backwards, watching Sawyer follow them. He turned away, walking back to some airline seats where he had some books stashed, along with some magazines.

"Really?" Phoebe raised her eyebrows. "He kind of came off to me as a nice..." Boone mumbled something incoherent, cutting her off.

"A nice what?" Charlie asked, as they reached Jack's medical tent.

"Guy," Phoebe finished.

Jack heard the disturbance and walked out of the tent, alarmed by the sight.

"Jesus Christ, what happened to him?" Jack asked, concerned, but not surprised, being used to injuries.

"Sawyer beat the living shit out of him." Meredith said before Charlie could respond.

"Sawyer..." Jack's eyes narrowed. "Did Sawyer knock him unconscious? Then we'd have a possible concussion on our hands." Jack invited them in and pointed to an area in the middle of the tent. "Put him down there."

"He just fainted." Charlie said, laying Boone down where Jack instructed. "Though Sawyer does have a hard punch..."

"Oh," Jack was struggling not to laugh at the childish thought of Boone fainting way because his corsets were too tight. "But, still...he could've fainted from the blows Sawyer gave to him. Did you see Sawyer hit him in the temple?"

"Jack," Charlie looked at him, serious, "He bloody floored me. I didn't see anything."

Jack muttered something unholy and then decided to examine Boone. "I've been on this island for less than two days and I already hate this Sawyer."

"We all do." Meredith said. "He's okay when he's not being an ass, but he's almost always an ass, so..." She shrugged, deciding to leave her sentence open ended. Charlie sat down, putting a hand to his bleeding head.

"You hurt too, Charlie?" Jack questioned Charlie.

I'll be fine." Charlie stated. "Boone needs you first."

"You sure?" Jack looked at Charlie seriously.

Charlie nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Okay..." Jack turned away uncertainly and examined Boone again. "I think he's mostly alright...maybe some iodine to clean out the wounds." Jack was in "serious doctor mode"."I think he just fainted from too much exertion or excitement. He'll be fine soon."

Charlie smiled, looking up at Jack from where he sat. "That's... that's good." He said, blinking the blood from his eyes.

Jack rifled through a navy blue bag and pulled out a brown bottle of iodine and a white washcloth. After pouring some iodine on the white washcloth, he began disinfecting Boone's open wounds. One on the forehead, another on the cheek, and one on the middle of his lower lip. On that one, Boone's blue-green eyes flicked open.

"Ouch!" He groaned, rubbing his cheek, the worst injured area. "Where...?" He began looking around.

"Stay still, Boone," Jack ordered gently.

"You're in Jack's tent." Charlie said, gesturing with his bloody hand. "You fainted."

Boone's ivory face went chalk white. "I...what?!"

"Fainted," Phoebe smiled slightly.

Boone's cheeks flushed scarlet. "Oh no..."

"It's alright, Boone." Charlie said, looking over at the injured lifeguard with a soft smile. "Actually, I'm feeling a tad light headed myself..."

Boone grinned back. Then, he shook his head, as if remembering something. "Did I thank you? You know…for saving my life?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah... it's no problem..."

"What?" Jack and Phoebe said at the same time.

"What did you do, Charlie?" Jack asked.

"I kept him from having his brains blown out." Charlie commented, laying down.

"Blown out?" Jack looked confused. "Like...with a gun?!"

Charlie managed a nod from where he sat. "Yeah. Sawyer had a gun on him."

"How'd he get a _gun_?!" Phoebe jumped, alarmed.

"That's none of your business, Bunny." Sawyer said, entering the tent. Meredith was about to drive him off when he held up his hand to stop her. "Hold your horses, Carrottop. I'm not here to kill anyone, I promise." He then turned to Phoebe, grinning like a feral cat. "Well, well, Bunny. I didn't know you had it in you, to go and do something that kinky."

"Shut up!" Boone snapped, cheeks flushing even redder, not even knowing what "kinky thing" Sawyer was referring to. He really just wanted Sawyer to stop looking at Phoebe with that wicked expression.

"Oh, you know too?" Sawyer sneered. "Or are you thinking of something else?" Sawyer asked, waving a magazine at Boone. Charlie raised an eyebrow at the title.

"Playboy magazine? Where'd you get that?" Charlie asked. Sawyer flipped through the pages, smiling.

"Someone had them in their suitcase. I thought I'd have a look-see."

Phoebe tried not to gasp in shock, but unfortunately, one escaped from her lips.

"What?" Boone asked her, concerned.

"Sawyer," Phoebe started. "Please..."

Sawyer ignored her plea, his grin growing wider. "I was flippin' through this magazine when, on page twenty-two, I saw something that shocked me." He explained, addressing everyone in the room. He then turned to Phoebe, a smirk on his face. "Where'dya get the guts to do it, Bunny?" He asked her, watching her face. He'd stopped flipping, folding the pages over so he could hold the book with one hand.

Boone gasped as he saw what was on the page. "What the hell?!" He looked flabbergasted and disgusted. Phoebe's face had never felt hotter in her life as she saw _her_ pictures labeled at the bottom with her playboy model name, "Tatiana".

"I…d-did it…f-for money," Phoebe looked down, ashamed. "S-such awful…d-debt."

"Hmm…" Sawyer snorted at her pathetic excuse, still smiling. "You know, I actually had to pause to make sure that this was you." He said, walking over to stand behind her. "An ass that fine does not need to be concealed, sweetheart." he whispered into her ear, grabbing her ass and squeezing it before walking back toward the tent exit. He paused in his resumed flipping, face drawn in shock. Suddenly, he laughed loudly, handing the book to Charlie while he used both hands to brace himself on his knees. Charlie looked at the photo, then up at Meredith, and then down at the photo again.

"You," He said, pointing at Meredith, "You're in this book too."

"Is this like "playboy" island or something?" Jack let out a half-laugh.

Meredith flushed. "Oh God..." She muttered, rubbing her temples. "Damn it. I was too hammered to notice. I should have recognized that man's damn bag. He set me up for the whole damn thing." She snarled to herself. Sawyer was on the ground laughing.

"Look... Look at her name!" He managed, pointing at the name on the bottom. Charlie burst out in giggles. "Titanic!" drunk

"You think this is funny?!" Boone's tone became louder and angrier. "It's disgusting!"

Sawyer looked up, his laughter gone but his smile intact. "It's not just funny, it's hilarious!" He said, sitting up. He fell back with a loud groan when Meredith, enraged, stepped on his no-no spot before storming out of the tent.

"Good for...Carrottop," Boone was glaring at Phoebe. "_She_ actually has a little dignity."

"My name's Meredith." Meredith shouted form outside, poking her head in for a second to glare at Sawyer. Sawyer was incapacitated on the floor, in a ton of pain. Charlie was torn between laughing at his misfortune or pitying the poor Southern boy. He, unfortunately, did not choose the latter. After a moment, he stopped, swaying, and laid back down, dizzy.

"You alright, Charlie?" Jack looked at Charlie, worried. Jack could always resume to his doctoring even after an..._interesting_ event.

"I feel lightheaded." Charlie said, closing his eyes. Sawyer managed to sit up and crawl onto a chair, but he moved as though someone had stuck a cactus in his crotch.

"Sawyer..." Jack glared at Sawyer. "Where did you hit Charlie?"

Sawyer glared up at Jack, seething. "I shoved him in the stomach and he hit his head on a rock." He snarled though gritted teeth. He never made it into his found chair, only managing to lean up against it.

"Christ..." Jack rushed over to Charlie.

"Let me help," Boone offered, glancing away from glaring daggers at Phoebe for a moment.

"I'm fine, Boone," Jack said, holding his hand up. "You can go...if you're feeling better."

"But..." Boone started.

"You're just getting in..." Jack held his tongue. "You need to take it easy. Let Phoebe..."

"No," Boone cut Jack off. "I'd rather not be cared for by a porn-star. I'll just go to Shannon." Boone marched out, in a bitter mood.

Sawyer watched him leave. He then turned to Phoebe, in pain. "Look, don't take it personally. I just thought people should know." He said, grinding his teeth. He hated apologies, but apologies and pain were even worse.

"You thought..." Jack wanted to roll his eyes at the ridiculous "Sawyer logic". "Do you really think she wanted everyone to know that about her?" Jack cracked open a synthetic cooling pad to place on Charlie's head.

"If I was a porn-star, I'd tell everyone so they wouldn't have to find it out themselves." Sawyer said. "And do you have any drugs for pain? Carrottop really did a number on me on her way out."

Jack wanted to refuse him medical attention, but the doctoring instinct in him was too powerful. "Here," Jack dug through the bag and pulled out a bottle of Advil. "Take two...that'll help."

Sawyer swallowed the pills dry. "Thanks, Doc." He said. He looked up at Charlie, truly concerned. "I didn't kill the Limey Little Runt, did I?"

"I don't think so," Jack replied icily, turning to Phoebe, who had been quiet all this time...not even to speak on her own behalf. "Phoebe? Do you think you could hold Charlie's head upright for me while I test him for a concussion?"

"Sure," Phoebe said almost inaudibly, bending down by Charlie's head and holding it up.

Sawyer didn't say anything or a moment, contemplating something. After a second, he stood, though still in pain, and wandered out of the tent. He came back with a bottle of water and a packet of airline peanuts. He set the water down by Charlie's feet and tossed the nuts onto his stomach. "Thought he might want something to eat later." Sawyer said, looking away. He sat back down in the sand, letting the pain ebb away from his sensitive spot.

"Thanks, Sawyer," Jack said incredulously...never thinking that "Thanks" and "Sawyer" could ever come together in the same sentence.

Jack turned back to Charlie and held his hand up in front of him. "How many fingers do you see, Charlie?"

"I can't tell." Charlie said, squinting. "Six...?"

"You're welcome, Dr. Giggles. Now get back to your patient... I think I'll be fine." Sawyer said

"Okay," Jack nodded gratefully to Sawyer. "Phoebe...you're gonna have to hold his head up higher." Phoebe obliged and Jack turned back to Charlie. "Okay...six, you say? It may be a little more minor then..." Jack felt Charlie's forehead. "Alright...do you smell anything out of the ordinary...like orange or something? And... are you seeing any flashing lights?"

"No..." Charlie said. "But everything's in twos..."

"Tell me your name," Jack asked gently.

"Charlie Hieronymus Pace." Charlie answered softly.

"Okay," Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Recite the ABC's."

"Why?" Charlie asked. "Why am I telling you all this stuff, anyway?'

"I'm testing you for a concussion." Jack explained.

"Right, but I'm not bloody stupid." Charlie said, slightly annoyed.

"Every grade of concussion involves some form of confusion," Jack informed him. "I want to see if you're confused."

Charlie sat up slightly, leaning back on his arms. "I'm not confused, alright. I know my ABCs and what my name is. You know I do."

Jack laughed slightly. "I know that Charlie...but can you please cooperate for me? It's just a precaution."

"ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ." Charlie said, flopping back down. "I still don't get why you're doing this. I just got a little dizzy..."

Phoebe giggled a little, amused by Charlie's resistance. She immediately silenced herself, though, and kept holding Charlie's head up.

"One more and we'll be done." Jack promised. "What's 14 + 13?"

"27." Charlie answered simply.

"Very good," Jack smiled, relieved. "Phoebe...you can put his head down now." Phoebe submissively did what she was told. "Now...I suggest you drink some of that water then rest for about ten minutes. Afterwards, you should eat something..." Jack gestured at the peanuts.

Charlie grabbed the water, sitting up completely. "Finally you're done." He said, taking a long gulp of water. Sawyer watched, face twisted in pain. The Advil wasn't helping.

"S-Sawyer?" Phoebe was looking down and speaking softly. "You think you might need a cold compress or something?"

"Anything that would help, Bunny." Sawyer said, wincing.

Phoebe grimaced at the nickname, bitterly thinking of Boone's glares, but got up to go to the bag and pulled out another, slightly smaller synthetic cooling pad. She slowly handed the package to him. "You crack it open and then the cold spreads throughout the pad."

Sawyer nodded, cracking the pad open and putting it on his sore spot. The cold was comforting.

Jack snorted back laughter as he looked at Sawyer.

"What?' Sawyer snapped. "Have you ever been stepped on before?"

"Nope," Jack replied shortly. "Only jerks have that happen to them."

"I wonder why it hasn't happened to you yet." Sawyer quipped.

"Well...I'm not a southern pervert who reads car magazines and playboy," Jack responded coolly.

"I'm not a doctor who gets to look at naked women for his job." Sawyer said, turning the tables.

"I'm a spinal surgeon."

"Whatever." Sawyer said, slightly defeated.

Jack, quite pleased at his victory, had to hide the smirk on his face as he put a band-aid on Charlie's head.

"Nice comeback, Jack." Charlie said, munching happily on the peanuts.

"Thanks...but I think you need more r-..." Jack stopped himself. "Never mind. You look like you're going to be alright.

"Sawyer, on the other hand, might need some more attention." Charlie said, looking past Jack at Sawyer, who was still in pain.

"She was wearing steel-toed boots." Sawyer explained.

"Well, I'm definitely not going to massage it for him or anything," Jack snickered, making even Phoebe almost hysterical.

Charlie flushed. "I did _not_ mean it like that!" He said, raising his hands in defense.

"I know," Jack had a rare "wicked" look on his face. "But I'm still not volunteering. Maybe he can just...oh...you know...take care of it himself."

Charlie chuckled into his hand, grinning. Sawyer looked at Jack, angered. "Look, Dr. Giggles, are you always this mean to a man in pain?

"Well..." Jack pretended to be pondering this. "I'm actually a homicidal maniac that poses as a doctor so I can murder people. I wouldn't be complaining...I think you're getting it pretty easy."

Sawyer quirked an eyebrow at Jack. He stood, wincing slightly, and started to leave the tent without as much as a good-bye. He stopped in the doorway, hesitating. "Hey, doc..." He looked back over his shoulder at Jack and Charlie. "Thanks." He said, before walking out.

Jack was starting to feel a little bad for being so irritating, but he really just wanted to lighten the mood up a little bit. He could tell that...well...mainly Phoebe...was upset and he just wanted to make everyone laugh.

"You're welcome!" Jack hollered back at Sawyer, hoping that he was heard.

"That was... odd." Charlie said, watching the door to the tent. "Is he always like that?' Charlie looked up at Jack with curious eyes.

"I wouldn't know," Jack shrugged. "I've known him for less than two days. But, in my professional opinion...it seems kind of rare for him to thank anyone or apologize for anything properly."

Charlie was about to say something when Sawyer walked back in, carrying Meredith in his arms. She was unconscious and her torso was covered in blood. Her orange and black jacket was flung haphazardly over her front like a blanket.

Jack swore loudly and bolted up. "What happened?!"

"I don't know." Sawyer said, putting her down where Boone was not to long ago. "I decided to start walking around the beach and she was lying on the sand in the water." He backed up to stand by Charlie, wiping at the blood on his shirt.

"Phoebe," Jack turned to the horror-stricken girl. "I'm going to need some water. Do you mind getting some water bottles?"

"Of course I don't," Phoebe stood up and sprinted out of the tent.

Meredith groaned out some kind of inaudible sear, shifting her place on the make-shift bed-thing. Sawyer, with a muttered swear, pulled his blood stained shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested. He tossed the ruined garment over to his seat with a half-hearted growl.

"Damn it, Phoebe, hurry up," Jack kept looking out at the tent entrance, waiting for her to come in with water.

Jack turned back to Meredith. "Meredith? Can you talk to me?"

Meredith's eyes fluttered open for half a second, before they closed again. Her breathing was erratic and shallow. Sawyer took her trademark orange and red beanie cap off her head and set it aside gently. Meredith seemed to smile at the seemingly meaningless gesture. She opened her eyes for another moment, fixing them on Jack.

"What?" She asked, though her voice as soft and horse.

"Good," Jack heaved a somewhat sigh of relief. "Are you able to tell me what happened?"

Phoebe rushed in with ten bottles of water all stacked up in her arms. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she'd been crying. Dropping the bottles at Meredith's side, she sat down again.

"Thanks," Jack looked at her briefly, then turned back to Meredith, repeating his question. "Are you able to tell me what happened?"

"Boar." Meredith managed. "S-Snuck up on me." Her mouth was red with blood. Sawyer's face turned from one of concern to one of anger.

"If you've got everything under control here, Doc, I have to go see a man about a boar." Sawyer said, crossing his arms. His voice was seething with anger, though none of it was aimed at Jack.

"Boar?" Jack sounded exasperated. "Did its tusks penetrate your skin? Or was it a bite? Or maybe it ran you over?"

"D, all of the above." Meredith said, coughing. She was worn out. Sawyer coughed loudly in attempt to draw Jack's attention back to his question. He had a boar to find, and god damn any man that tried to stop him.

"Goddamn it!" Jack didn't even try to contain his frustration as he ignored Sawyer. "How am I supposed to deal with this when we hardly have any proper medical supplies?!" Jack wanted to kick something, but he refrained from doing that. He decided to give himself five seconds of frustration and anger, then he'd get to work.

"1...2...3...4...5..." he counted to himself. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned looked down at Meredith. "It looks like it only seriously damaged your torso area..." Jack, not looking at Phoebe, asked her, "Phoebe...help me take off her shirt and then get some water on her to clean off the blood so I can see the damage done."

Sawyer grabbed Jack by the shoulders and turned him around so that they were facing each other. "Can I go kill that damn boar now or not?" He snarled. Charlie had backed up against the wall to avoid getting another pummeling from Sawyer.

"FINE BY ME!" Jack had lost it, slamming Sawyer back. "IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HELP, GET OUT!"

"FINE." Sawyer shouted. He turned and stormed out, grabbing Charlie's arm and dragging him behind. "You, me, Cupcake, and Knife Man are going on a boar hunt."

"Why am I going?' Charlie asked, fearful.

"You can be the bait." Sawyer said, not joking.


End file.
